


Haunted House

by SpookshowBabyx



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Halloween, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookshowBabyx/pseuds/SpookshowBabyx
Summary: It's Halloween, and Regina has travelled to New York to bring Henry and Emma home following the use of her memory charm to help them escape the curse. With all well in Storybrooke, it should be a simple task, but when she finds herself lying to keep her cover and stuck in a haunted house attraction with Emma, things get complicated fast as no holds are barred.SQ story & smut.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 135





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Happy pre-Halloween! I think- THINK- this fic will be seven chapters long, so the plan is to post a chapter a day until Halloween itself :)
> 
> I've stolen the main setting for this story from my 'TIS THE SEASON Christmas fic- although, obviously, the time of year differs, so please allow me some artistic licence- as I wanted to work with something a little different than usual (for me). I think I said it in the A/N for that fic, but this setting was originally one I wanted to work with for a long, really quite dark fic, but I've since decided it might not be to the majority's taste, and I have enough to contend with working on THESE DARK PATHS! It's a fun setting to work with though, and I hope it's fun to read also!
> 
> Excuse the short length of some of the chapters. I promise there will be one per day, but as I am also struggling to get #inktober finished (a picture a day for the month of October) for my art page onheilspellend_ (shameless name drop in case anyone wants to go check the insta, there's boobs and ladies and all sorts! :p) I'm a little bit frantic when it comes to time! You will get a full story though, I promise :) I've actually PLANNED and everything... What a world!
> 
> Reviews would be awesome :)

"I have an idea."

Ruby grins, disappearing behind the counter and out into the back before the Mayor has a chance to argue.

"She has an idea."

Mary Margaret smirks in response to the brunette's uneasy frown, and Regina fires her an irritable glance before rolling her eyes.

"I fail to see why she needs to have anything to do with it at _all_."

"Emma's her friend, she's just trying to help."

Snow shrugs, resting a hand on her stomach with a sigh as she laments her earlier disinclination to leave the house wearing sweatpants as she'd privately wished to; the clothes store behind the cannery not exactly offering a _wide_ range of maternity-wear, nor anything especially comfortable.

"Well, it seems like just about _everybody_ wants to try and help... The next time your daughter opens her mouth to complain about lacking the social competency to make friends, she better believe I'll shoot her down _vehemently_."

The Mayor mutters as she leans back in her seat to try and catch a glimpse of what the waitress might be doing, and Mary Margaret chuckles as she reasons

"I don't think you shooting her down is ever going to exactly come as a _surprise_ to Emma... And it's not _everybody_ , just Ruby. Don't look so dour."

" _Dour!_?"

Regina protests, her teeth bared in offence, before she narrows her eyes when the door to the diner opens and closes, muttering waspishly to her companion

"It's _not_ just Ruby... _He's_ still annoyed about the decision we made."

Mary Margaret sighs as she glances over her shoulder to spy Hook shaking out a black umbrella before turning back to the Queen.

"He's fine. Or rather, he _would_ be, if you would stop winding him _up_ , Madame Mayor."

"What are you suggesting _I_ do?"

The brunette demands, and Snow offers her a measured look as she insists

"You know _exactly_ what you do, Regina. You pick at him."

"Hardly, and even _if_ that were true, he should get over it. He's a grown man."

"I know, which is why I have _no_ interest in getting involved. I just wish you'd back down a little so I didn't have to _listen_ to it any time the two of you cross paths. David and I _agreed_ that you should be the one to go bring Emma and Henry home, so I don't see why you continue to feel the need to jump down the man's _throat_ every time he speaks. He's just worried about them, Regina, same as the _rest_ of us; arguing with him about something that's already been decided on- in _your_ favour- isn't going to help anything."

"He's not worried about _them_ , he's _worried_ about getting Miss Swan back to our little town before she finds herself a two-handed suitor in his absence. Given that the woman has had almost a _year_ to enjoy a veritable buffet of options, I'm sure she's compiled quite a _list_."

"Mm... And, given that _I_ know that _you_ know Emma really quite _well,_ I know you don't _actually_ believe a word you just said."

"Hook isn't concerned about Henry."

The brunette insists, and Snow shrugs.

"Alright, maybe with _that_ part, you have a point, but only _just_. Give the man a break, he's helped out enough times. I'll _admit_ that you're probably correct in presuming his interest in playing the leading role with this new plan will mostly have centred around Emma, but, as I said just now- as I've said _so_ many times over the last couple of days that it's giving me a _headache_!- it doesn't _matter_ , because we all agreed that it makes more sense for _you_ to go to New York and play the valiant hero. Honestly, I'm kind of _surprised_ you're so keen on rescuing Emma."

"I'm not _rescuing_ her."

Regina scoffs, pulling a face at the very notion.

"I'm _keen_ to retrieve my _son_ who I haven't seen for the best part of a year _._ The fact that that means dragging your spawn along with me in the process is neither here nor there so far as I'm concerned. She might not even _want_ to come back..."

The brunette snaps, playing what she knows is a cruel hand for the simple fact that she's fairly certain this is something Snow is genuinely concerned about.

"She will."

The younger woman insists, and the Mayor splays her palms in a gesture that suggests she doesn't care either way as she watches the pirate take up a stool at the bar after returning Mary Margaret's amiable wave moodily.

"I'm not _rescuing_ anyone _, least_ of all your insufferable brat of a daughter, I just trust myself to do a better job of things than _him_."

Regina offers her final say on the matter, and Snow shrugs with a wince as the baby kicks and assures her wearily

"You're trying to convince me on a subject I've already _agreed_ with you on. I know that might just be too foreign a situation to comprehend, but I don't know what else you want me to _say_. We agreed; you're a better fit for the job. Who better to deliver a dose of magic than someone that _has_ magic?"

"That was _your_ reasoning behind backing up my argument that the job of returning my own _child_ should go to me. I don't believe it was Charming's."

"So? He _agreed_ with you. Why do you _care_ what his reasoning was?"

"Because his _reasoning_ is sitting up there clad in dirty leather and a scowl, and my ego is just a _little_ sore at being granted a request I should never have had to make- it should have been a _given_ that I would go once we were safe to bring those two home- simply because your husband doesn't like the thought of a pirate jumping into bed with his daughter."

"Oh, I don't think it has much to do with Hook being a _pirate_... Although, maybe it _should_ , now that I think about it..."

Mary Margaret frowns, before turning to her longterm nemesis and pleading wearily

"And could you _please_ not word it that way?"

"How would you _rather_ I put it? There are frillier ways of insinuating admiration and a longing for courtship, but I don't think any of them really _apply_ when talking about Hook. _Or_ Emma."

Regina purses her lips as she raises an eyebrow as if to challenge the school teacher to tell her she's wrong.

"I mean, you _could_ just not discuss my daughter's love life at _all_? _That's_ always an option."

"Funny, dear. I believe she's told _you_ the same thing many times."

"Yes, well... It's complicated. She was my _roommate_ for quite a while, and we talked about a lot of things I would take back now if I could!"

"Mm. Fortunately, she's past the age where you'd need to foot the bill for any therapy sessions, but I can see how your likely nightly drivel about David might now be a little traumatising."

"I could say something _similar_ about Henry and discovering what you did during your time on the throne!"

"He _knew_ about that, and I _did_ pay for his sessions with Archie. I've never discussed my favoured _positions_ while sat there for my kingdom's admiration, though, nor just how, ah, _roughly_ I might like my crown put on-"

"- _Regina!_ "

"If I _had_ , I imagine I might feel just a little _sheepish_ these days, but... _I_ managed to _refrain_ from emotionally scarring my own child."

" _That_ might be pushing it."

Snow grumbles darkly.

"Whatever do you mean?... Don't worry, dear. There's always that one."

Regina points towards the school teacher's swollen stomach, earning herself an angry glower as Snow opens her mouth to warn the Queen that she's in danger of crossing the line. She's saved the trouble- and any subsequent argument- when Ruby reemerges from behind the counter looking rather pleased with herself.

"I _knew_ we had these _somewhere_. Here."

The waitress smiles, holding out a cellophane bag tied with gaudy orange ribbon.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

Regina frowns as she accepts the packet held out to her.

"You said you needed a way to get Emma and Henry to ingest the potion you and Gold were working on. Why not lace these? It seems _appropriate_ given that Saturday's Halloween."

Ruby shrugs with a grin, and the Mayor sighs as she pockets the packet of candy corn and warns

"Fine... I certainly hope the date we've chosen to do this on isn't an omen."


	2. Chapter 2

Making a mental note of where she's parked her car, Regina makes her way hesitantly down the crowded street with a dismissive frown cast at the decorations adorning shop windows. Personally, she's never had much time for Halloween; a holiday that hadn't existed in the Enchanted Forest, where festivities predominately focused on those worthy of celebrating (ie, _her_ ). Of course, the same goes for Christmas, but, as she had tried to explain to the Saviour last fall when they'd discussed her displeasure- ' _grumpiness', Miss Swan phrased it, and isn't_ that _just a little rich!?_ \- surrounding the spooky season, she has grown to _appreciate_ Christmas for the closeness it brings her with Henry; a _vastly_ different sentiment to bothering strangers and demanding candy while attempting to scare them for good measure!

_Most distasteful._

She muses irritably, recalling how her annoyance had been very much a _solo_ venture as Emma had sat rocked back in her chair grinning at her in the way the Sheriff has a habit of doing when she's enjoying watching the Queen get herself wound up over trivial matters.

 _"I don't know what_ you're _suddenly so happy about, dear. It's not as though_ you're _one to enjoy the happiness and harmony of most holidays."_

She'd snapped at the younger woman.

 _"Most of my holidays haven't_ been _happy and harmonious."_

The Sheriff had replied simply, before elaborating with a shrug

_"I like Halloween. It doesn't involve the same pressure to get close and cuddly with those around you. It involves candy, gory movies, pumpkins and dressing up."_

_"You never dress up."_

_"Not here, no, but I used to. It's fun."_

_"Hmm... I suppose I shouldn't find myself_ surprised _that you're in favour of a holiday centred around showing up on people's doorsteps uninvited to give them a fright."_

She'd muttered under her breath.

Quite _loudly_ under her breath.

In retaliation, Emma had simply told her she was flattered to have made such an impression, willingly submitting to their familiar bickering.

Bickering that, in all honesty, the Mayor has missed ever so slightly.

Ever _so slightly!_

She's had to make do with sparring with Snow since returning to Storybrooke and ridding themselves of danger; a practice that's sweetly nostalgic, but the school teacher doesn't bite back at her the way Emma does, and Mary Margaret rarely dares to toe the line so precariously as her daughter; much less while staring her down and flashing her a grin.

_It's a sad sign of the times that I would choose to welcome such audacity back into my life._

Isn't it just? As, while she has assured the others vehemently and often that bringing Emma back to Storybrooke is simply part and parcel of her imminent reunion with Henry, she is forced to admit- only to herself, mind- that a small part of her is looking forward to bullying the Sheriff relentlessly when she comes back in hopes of receiving a reaction and that vexingly irritating, mildly amusing, utterly uncouth little grin.

If _she agrees to come back._

She frowns as she mulls over her recent jab at Snow's expense. She supposes there's not really any 'if' about it. Once he remembers who she is and his home in Storybrooke, Henry will want to come back, of that she's certain, and if the boy wants to head back to Maine, then his mother- his _other_ mother- will follow in his wake.

 _Possibly not_ willingly _, though..._

No, and she supposes the reason she takes issue with this is very different to that of the blonde's parents. In truth- and it is a truth Rumple has pointed out to her _twice_ now- it should _suit_ her if the Saviour decides she doesn't want to stick around, but there is a part of her that can't help but feel a little jealous. Emma has always been the odd one out in their little town; she comes from elsewhere, and, unlike the rest of them who have no option to go back to where they hailed from originally, the blonde has always had the means to pull back. To take a break. To spend some time in this other world that confuses the rest of them.

"Hey, watch it, lady!"

A gruff voice warns as a man hurries past with an inflatable skeleton clutched in one meaty fist, and the small hand of a toddler clutched in the other. The little boy in question almost has to run to keep up; the bobble on his hat jiggling comically.

"Rude..."

Regina hisses irritably, the man's dismissive tone and brash remark only serving to support her inner musing as to the foreign nature of this world.

_I was the Queen!_

She finds herself bristling furiously, although, if she's going to base the mannerisms of those that hail from beyond Storybrooke's borders on the person she knows _best_ from this side of the line, she really shouldn't find herself so shocked at the audacity of their behaviour.

A small smirk at this at Emma's expense, and she steps sensibly to the side to avoid being growled at by any further strangers and checks her phone. A small pin studs the maps application Belle had finally managed to figure out and help her with- all the while offering the Queen uneasy side-glances and playing nervously with her hair- and she marvels at this land's version of magic as that red pin decreases in size as she takes a couple of steps further down the street; the phone vibrating gently in her hand and telling her to turn around and go the other way.

Accepting orders from the device in a way she _never_ would a person, she turns back on herself and heads up the street before eventually taking a right. A small park with a meagerly populated playground greets her on her left as Belle had said it would when scouring over the map back in Storybrooke; turning the grey shapes and streets over to what she'd called 'street view', and Regina spies the attractive redbrick building a little further up that the young beauty had managed to track the Saviour to.

_How are you going to do this?_

She asks herself, still not certain how best to go about her task, but if there's one thing she has come to learn when dealing with Emma, it's that planning for things to go a certain way is generally a waste of time.

_Impossible woman._

Supposing the first step should be checking that Belle's information can be trusted, she makes her way over the road, towards the building and climbs the five stone steps leading to the front door. A column of buzzers lines the brick to her side, and she raises a brow as she reads down the list of names, hoping she's right in thinking that E.S. stands for Emma Swan. She would imagine it does, as this is the only buzzer where neither a first or last name has been added to help with identification, and that seems about right given the younger woman's evasive tendencies.

_Well, if she's gone back to doing bail bonds work, it's perhaps a wise decision..._

Perhaps, but she really doesn't feel like crediting Emma with such an indulgent understanding of her reasoning, and so she frowns down at the mysteriously labelled buzzer indecisively.

"Henry!"

A young voice calls shrilly, causing her to turn around with a start, and she watches as a slim girl with flaming orange hair runs down the street; streaking past her and skidding to a halt at the intersection less than ten feet away. The girl waves amiably at the boy who approaches with a grin, and Regina feels her heart leap into her throat as her stomach flips.

_Henry..._

She clenches her teeth hard as she suffers the overwhelming urge to either cry or break into laughter, and retreats back down the steps before her son wonders what on earth some strange- _and devilishly well-dressed!_ \- woman might be doing hovering around the front door to his apartment building.

"Hey, Freya."

Henry greets, paying no attention to the brunette who takes her chances and closes the distance between them by a couple of steps; drinking in the subtle changes to her son's appearance.

_How could you have grown so much taller in such a short amount of time?_

She marvels, although, in reality, a year has felt like a hellishly _long_ amount of time with Henry missing. His hair is longer and messier than she likes for it to get, but it looks oddly handsome paired with the dark green sweater he wears and dark brown boots. She doesn't recognise either of these items, nor his jeans or scarf, but finds herself surprised that she doesn't _disapprove_ of them either.

An opinion that soon changes when Henry turns around to show Freya the skeleton prancing on the back of his sweater.

"Cool!"

Freya giggles- her delight not shared by Regina in the slightest- and she holds up her gloved hands to show him the cartoon ghosts that haunt her fingers.

"Those are great."

Henry grins, beckoning the young redhead along as he strolls obliviously past his mother.

"I thought you were helping your mom with her work thing?"

Freya frowns as she falls into step beside the brunet and follows him to his front door.

"I am, but she forgot to grab the wristband things they're using, so I said I'd pick them up on my way to Boxer's. I'm going to get changed, too."

He grins, waggling his eyebrows, and for a moment, Regina finds herself struggling to resist the urge to march over and tell him he was raised better than that- at least, by _her_ , he was- before it dawns on her that the boy isn't insinuating anything untoward at all, and is likely referring to wanting to change into a halloween costume.

_As though that's much better!?_

But, it is. She's just suffering the brunt of a strange situation and she knows it. She's happy that Henry seems happy.

_Even if he insists on wearing some ghastly disguise._

She rolls her eyes and feigns interest in her phone as she worries she's perhaps been standing around aimlessly for too long, and she jabs at the volume keys hastily when a tinned voice starts to tell her she's reached her destination.

_Hush, you accursed thing!_

The kids pay her no attention as Freya gestures to her backpack and explains she's off to her sister's to change and that she'll meet him there.

_Wherever 'there' is..._

"Come up and change at mine, otherwise? Mom's taken some of the paints and stuff, but I think there's still a bunch of makeup and blood in the bathroom. Cupcakes, too."

He offers the girl a winning smile and she reciprocates as she accepts his invitation.

_Paints? Blood? Wristbands?_

Regina tries to wrap her head around fractured information as the children slip from view and enter the building. She supposes she has at least managed to deduce that Henry is home while Emma is out somewhere doing god knows what with paints and minus some wristbands, but this isn't as fortuitous as she'd like now that Henry has company. She can't think of a scenario where offering the boy candy in front of his friend and without any pretext will go down well, and so she chooses for the moment to bide her time.

_After all, what's a couple of minutes when I've missed you for months?_

Honing in on one detail that _might_ be of use, she brings up her cell's search bar and types in 'Boxers NY'. A couple of articles come up that don't appear to be of any relevance, but she notes that when she clicks under the maps subheading, the first hit is for Boxer Park which claims to be seven minutes walk away. Hesitating as she tries to decide on the best course of action, she decides to believe the odds will play to her favour and begins making her way across town following the map's instructions, the first trick-or-treaters passing her by with their costumes on and candy-sacks clenched in their fists.


	3. Chapter 3

It takes about ten minutes for Regina to arrive at Boxer Park; her journey slower than that suggested by her phone as she stops several times to drink in her surroundings curiously. She has grown so used to living in Storybrooke that the idea of navigating her way around a city has very little appeal; a notion somewhat solidified by what Henry had told her about his last trip over the border with the blonde and golden imp in tow. There's very little order out here; very little hierarchy or respect for one's standing, and she supposes this must be something Emma finds perfectly acceptable, but the busy hum of strangers fills her with a sense of anxiety that making mortal decisions and ruling a kingdom _never_ had.

The sign for the park has been decorated with synthetic cobwebs and a couple of plastic spiders, and she wonders- yet again- why the strange beings outside of her control will banish and fear things for eleven months out of the year, yet embrace them and celebrate them come fall.

_Idiots._

She muses, although she has to admit that the structure she spies as she enters the park is rather impressive. What looks like it was once a small factory building left standing empty on the outer edge of the park has been dressed up with spooky accents and has gained a graveyard made up of suspiciously new-looking headstones. The boarded-up windows have had SOS messages spray-painted on them in black and red paint, and as she watches, a tall man in a black knitted cap makes his way from a truck through the faux cemetery with three lifeless bodies trailing hay clutched under his arm. He is met by a short woman who helps him inside; her gender only discernable due to the cut of her coat, her face covered by a grotesque hag's mask.

_I will never understand these people..._

No, but the Queen's bemusement reminds her that she's come here under the impression that she might find Emma- the very _epitome_ of confusing life-choices in her eyes- and so she approaches the building with her hands balled tightly in her coat pockets until she stands close enough to read the signs that have been hammered into the soil outside the entrance.

_BEWARE!_

_KEEP OUT!_

Seem to be the most popular salutations, but conversely, behind one of the signs warning any who read it not to enter, the admission times and costs have been listed in chalk, along with some frolicking ghosts.

_Haunted House - Enter if you Dare!_   
_Open from 6pm - Last entry 10.30pm_   
_8+_   
_Under 12s must be accompanied by an adult._   
_Adults- $4_   
_Children- $2_   
_All proceeds go to the CPOFOF_   
_Please don't touch the actors_   
_And most importantly- HAVE FUN!_

"House doesn't open for another hour or so, Miss."

A voice informs the brunette, startling her, and she glances over her shoulder to spy the man in the knitted cap making his way back to his truck.

"Oh, I wasn't...-"

She frowns, not sure she can think of much _worse_ than fumbling around some old building with a hoard of fear-seekers and actors lowering themselves to scare-comedy.

"Shame."

Her companion smiles, offering her an appreciative nod, and she returns his grin with a polite shrug; not minding the attention in the slightest, but not about to change her stance on horror houses.

"What's CPOFOF?"

She asks, gesturing towards the sign.

"Children and Partners of Fallen Officers Foundation."

The man replies, and the brunette raises a brow as she asks curiously

"You're an officer? A cop?"

"Me? No. No, I'm the law, but not _that_ kind of law. I'm an attorney; crime of all shapes and sizes. I have my foot in the CPOFOF pot so to speak as I deal with the police a lot in my line of work. There's a lot of us that help out with these events that don't wear a badge but have their reason for lending a hand. Some are volunteers, some, like myself, are what we call Outsiders. Lurkers behind the law."

"I see... And that would include bail bonds work and the like?"

" _Bail bonds_? You don't strike me as a bounty hunter!"

"I'm not, and I'm _very_ much alright with that, thank you."

Regina sniffs arrogantly, and the man grins in response.

"It's less glamourous than it sounds, I'll give you that. Bonders generally work solo, but we have a couple of familiar faces that come and help out. Why? Were you looking for someone?"

"Oh, I... I suppose I was just curious."

The Mayor replies uncertainly; wanting to ask after Emma specifically, but concerned that if the blonde _is_ lending a hand- very much unlike her, but then it _is_ Halloween- she might be led inside and introduced, and she hasn't quite decided what it is she plans to say to the younger woman when she finds her.

She's saved any further intrigue when the pager clipped to the man's belt buzzes against his hip, and he glances down to check what it says before offering the brunette an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I need to get moving. We still have a room full of corpses to set up."

"Well, I'd _hate_ to keep you from _that_."

Regina pulls a face, raising her hand in reciprocation of her companion's farewell, before turning around as she hears a familiar voice approach her from behind.

"Come on, if we're quick, we can choose a good place to jump out from later!"

Henry beckons Freya as he hurries up the path to the Haunted House. For a moment, Regina fears that he might recognise her from the street outside his home, but he's too busy chatting to his friend to spare her a glance. Both he and Freya now wear purposefully ripped and dirty clothing, their faces slathered in white paint with ghoulish shadows smeared beneath their eyes.

_How horrible..._

Still, she imagines that's the _point_ , and she allows herself a small smile as she catches Henry holler a greeting to the man unloading his van and the woman that emerges from the house in her hag's mask and purple rain boots.

"Henry Swan, you look positively _ghastly!_ "

The hag greets; her voice muffled behind cheap latex, but not so badly that Regina isn't able to hear what she says, and she feels her heart break just a little.

 _Well, what did you expect? He doesn't know any better. Emma doesn't know any better. That's why you're_ here _._

True, but, while it had been she that had given the blonde her altered memories in the first place, she finds herself placing blame with the younger woman out of sheer habit and decides that, _somehow_ , the Saviour has given their son ammunition to wound her on _purpose_.

After all, it _does_ help to make her feel better.

"Thank you."

Henry smiles at the hag in response to her insult, and she removes her mask to reveal dark skin and bright pink hair cropped close to her scalp.

"Did you bring the wristbands or am I going to have to punish your mother?"

The hag-not-hag asks; simultaneously offering Regina confirmation that she has now located _both_ missing members of her family, and vocalising a sentiment the Mayor has frequently felt inclined to administer herself.

"Got them."

Henry holds out a cellophane wallet stuffed with thin strips of orange plastic, and the young woman takes it before leading both Henry and Freya inside.

_What now?_

The brunette asks herself, pulling out her cell phone and checking the time.

5.10 PM.

Slipping it back inside her pocket and raising her gaze to the sky, she considers the purple tinge of oncoming darkness before glancing back towards the van where the man she'd spoken to earlier pulls out a wheelbarrow and begins loading it with further gory props.

"Excuse me, is there anywhere good to get coffee around here?"

She calls over, and he straightens up from his doomed task and nods.

"Head up the path and out of the main gate and you'll see a little cafe with a blue awning. Craft's. Or, if you want something boring and unoriginal, there's a Starbucks a little further down."

"Thank you."

Regina smiles, unsure what would make one cup of coffee 'boring' over another, but she knows that asking further questions is unlikely to be wise.

"Got your fill from thirty feet away, then?"

The man grins knowingly.

"Not quite. But, as you said; you don't open for almost an hour."

"You're coming back?"

"I might."

She nods. Turning around and heading off in the direction of heat and caffeine, she slips her hand into her pocket to rest around the small packet of charmed candy corn; supposing she'll just have to wait and see what tonight brings.

_There's no rush, that's what you need to remember._

_Better safe than sorry._


	4. Chapter 4

When Regina returns to the park with a second paper cup of cappuccino warming her hands, darkness has fallen, and a number of old-fashioned streetlamps light the path towards the Haunted House which sits awash in the glow of coloured lights angled up to make the brickwork bleed crimson. A small crowd has gathered outside, and an orderly queue has begun to form at the door where the hag- once more clad in her mask, and minus her purple boots- lets people in after slapping one of the neon orange bands around their wrist.

Unsure whether or not to join the queue, Regina lingers just outside the dome of light cast out by the attraction, before spotting a familiar figure slipping out of a side door to stalk amongst the gravestones. Heading slowly in that direction, she comes to a stop beside a large cross claiming to belong to a Mr Frank N Stein and offers Henry a smile in way of greeting.

"Are you wanting to go in? You need to go around to the front. The queue _looks_ bad, but it moves quickly. It's not so big inside as we were only allowed to use a couple of the rooms... It's good though!"

Henry assures hastily, his makeup making him look alarmingly gaunt, but offset amusingly by the jolly mustard of his scarf.

"I'm not sure it's really my scene."

Regina replies honestly, but she gestures to the gravestones surrounding them and comments amiably

"These are quite clever. The names, I mean. The sentiment... Less so."

"You don't like scary stuff?"

"Oh, I can stomach all _sorts_ of horrors, but I admit Halloween isn't a holiday I've ever been too fond of."

"How come? If you don't mind the spookiness?

"I suppose I struggle to see the appeal in trespassing with the threat of tricking those that might not deserve it."

"Oh... I think most of us don't _really_ do tricks, it's just something we say. It's tradition, you know? Some of the teenagers can maybe get a bit mean, but I'm not allowed to play any tricks or knock on anybody's door if their lights aren't on."

" _Are_ you going knocking for candy?"

"Yeah. I said I'd help out getting things started in there, but mom said I could go now that everything's set up. I'm just waiting for someone."

"Your mom's taking part in there?"

Regina asks, gesturing towards the house. She presumes Henry's waiting for his little friend before he goes off to knock on people's doors, and her question is mostly a bid to stall him as she tries to decide whether to make a move on the boy now that she has him momentarily on his own.

"Yeah. She's not taking part in the scares or anything, but she helped pull this all together and set up."

"I see."

"It's a shame you don't like this kind of thing. It turned out really good."

Henry laments, and Regina sighs as she wishes her immediate response wasn't one of defensiveness born from a turbulent history the boy remembers nothing about and hides her inner turmoil with a smile.

"It does _seem_ that way, I'll give you that. As I said, the creepy factor isn't for me, nor the trick-or-treating. However, the prize... _That_ I can understand the appeal of."

She smirks as she pulls the bag of candy corn from her coat; her heart hammering fast as she sees her chance and decides to take it, and she addresses Henry's wary smile with a conspiring nod.

"I'm a stranger handing out candy in a make-shift graveyard; I know how it looks, _believe_ me. That said, I was given these by an... Acquaintance... And I feel I should at least offer you a start to your night of candy-hunting after declining to tour the house you're clearly so proud of. Call it commiseration, and rest assured these heels are far too sharp to go chasing you through the mud or carrying you off somewhere should you succumb to any curse or spell I might have placed on these."

She shakes the bag in her hand pointedly with a smile that's just a little too wide; a little too hopeful.

Still, her reasoning seems to have worked on Henry, who offers her a grin.

"I'm a bit too _old_ to believe in magic, sorry."

"Is that right?"

She asks as she pulls the ribbon from around the top of the bag of candy.

"Afraid so."

Henry agrees, holding out his hand at the Mayor's request.

"I-"

"-Henry, what are you still doing here, I-... Umm... Can I help you?"


	5. Chapter 5

_"-Henry, what are you still doing here, I-... Umm... Can I help you?"_

A voice interrupts them, and Regina pulls back with a start; spilling several candy kernels into the mud and she slips the bag swiftly back into her coat pocket.

"No... No, I-"

"-Are you here to fix monitor?"

The blonde asks, running a hand through her hair in a harried fashion as she frowns at the woman standing just a little too close to her son.

"... Yes."

Regina replies on a whim, not knowing what else to say as she doesn't want Emma barking at her to stay away from her child lest she find herself incapable of keeping up appearances and be forced to go for the younger woman's throat as she has always done when they've suffered this particular argument.

"Oh, good! I have _no_ idea what I'm doing!"

Emma expresses her obvious relief, subsequently seeming to accept the brunette's failed offer of candy to her son without further suspicion as she beckons her inside.

"You didn't say you were here to help..."

Henry frowns at the brunette as she turns to follow the Sheriff, and Regina pauses and offers him a measured look as she supposes she shouldn't be surprised that he shows no fear in calling her out. Once upon a time, she had taken this character trait terribly personally as it had felt purely directed towards _her,_ but she has since come to learn that the boy suffers no qualm in challenging _anyone_ , and while she might sometimes disapprove, finding his openness rather impolite, she has come to expect his curiosity.

To _respect_ it.

"I said I didn't fancy a _tour_."

She corrects with a shrug, raising her hand and bidding him goodnight before he can ask her any more questions and turning back around to follow the Sheriff inside.

"Watch your step over these wires."

Emma advises as she leads them down a dark hallway; the muffled screams and hollering of the house's patrons echoing ominously through the wall. Regina steps carefully over the cables that snake the length of the corridor, before following the younger woman into a poky little room where a computer screen is set to standby.

" _Oh!_ "

She cries as she closes the door to reveal a narrow shelving unit piled high with severed heads and limbs.

"Ha, sorry."

The blonde chuckles; not sounding especially sorry, nor _looking_ it when Regina turns around to face her.

"A warning would have been nice."

She snaps, and the younger woman offers her that lazy shrug she hates- the one she's come almost to miss- and points out

"It's a Haunted House. What were you expecting?"

"That the scares might be saved for patrons rather than employees for one!"

Regina replies irritably, waiting for her heart to return to its regular rythym as she scours the room for any further surprises.

She finds the only real surprise is Emma herself.

The blonde sits perched on one of the three desks that run along the full length of the back wall, clad in a way the darker woman remembers well; rough leather and tight denim. She has forgone dressing up for the evening's events, save for her t-shirt just visible beneath her jacket which features a cackling skull with an improbable snake tongue protruding from its gumless mouth.

_Either a nod to the occasion, or a characteristic lack of taste..._

Regina muses, although she finds herself oddly excited to be face to face with her long-time rival once again. Her enthusiastic reaction to sharing a room with her foe is what surprises her, as does the younger woman's cheek considering she's of the belief that they're strangers.

 _Really?! That Miss Swan should be brash and bold in her teasing_ surprises _you?!_

In a way, yes. She has always considered the blonde crude and hopelessly childish in her taste for glib sarcasm and lack of respect, but their earliest interactions had seemed to sour Emma's full repertoire of being a pain in the ass as there has always been a dangerous side to their relationship and a need for each woman to watch her step. As such, Regina has grown accustomed to the younger woman's attempts to get under her skin being oddly wooden and stale; Emma succeeding _magnificently_ in her goal, but not with the cool ease she displays when messing around with the others.

Not with the casual wickedness she manages without even seeming to _try_ with Hook.

And suddenly it dawns on the brunette why she finds the pirate's infatuation with the blonde so unbelievably irritating.

 _Beyond the_ obvious _, that is..._

Emma has nothing to lose when it comes to Killian. He poses her no threat; magical or custodial, and so she can be as glib and inappropriate in her comments to him as she likes without needing to hold back and refusing him that intriguing, twisted side of herself that she allows the Mayor glimpses of, but never the full taste.

Now, the younger woman is none the wiser and she regards her companion coolly without the wary caution she has favoured ever since the two became acquainted.

_Even as allies she looked at me that way; even as... Well... As good as friends..._

Regina shudders at the very thought, but she supposes she can see Emma's logic, however much it may irritate her. Truthfully, she imagines she isn't even entirely to blame anymore. The blonde simply isn't one to forgive and forget easily- not one to lower her guard once it's been raised- and the Queen accepts that she isn't in a position where she can judge all too harshly.

_Not that that's ever stopped me._

She smirks to herself, eyeing the younger woman curiously as she relishes her momentary gift of anonymity.

"You're not what I was expecting."

Emma interrupts her train of thought, and Regina freezes for a moment, before remembering that she has been invited behind the scenes under pretext.

"Oh?"

She replies simply, opting for what she considers to be the safest response, and the blonde nods as she hops off the desk and gives computer's mouse a violent shake in an attempt to wake the screen.

"Nope. When the precinct said they'd send over one of their tech guys, I was expecting, well, a _guy_ , or, someone that looked the part. No offence."

"None taken, although I'm not sure what you mean."

"...Don't make me elaborate and play the bad guy here."

Emma grumbles with a glance over her shoulder, but when she gauges that the brunette means what she says, she raises a brow and turns back to face her with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You don't look like the rest of the computers wizzes I've met, and I've met my fair share doing what I do. That's a _compliment_ by the way, although it feels a little bitchy now that you've made me explain it."

"A little."

Regina agrees breezily, and she meets the narrowing of green eyes with a smirk.

 _Pretty eyes. A pretty glower. The woman has made it her_ duty _to play a thorn in my side, but I can't deny I've missed the sting just a little._

Ordinarily, such thoughts would send her reeling back uneasily, but she suffers no expectation here and plays several giant leaps ahead of the Sheriff, and so she lowers her defences a little and enjoys the curious scene she's entered into. In a way, she supposes she's glad that it's worked out this way around; Henry no doubt the easier sell when it comes to convincing the others to come home, but the boy knows the particulars of his mothers' relationship and would no doubt have demanded of her to tread with caution- with consideration- when approaching the blonde; fiercely protective of Emma in a way that has never failed to irk her, in spite of coming to find that he behaves very much the same towards the Sheriff on her behalf.

_This is stressful enough without playing out some warped version of happy families... What a notion!_

"You look _exactly_ like I thought you would, given what you do."

She plays Emma's words back to her boldly, finding private amusement in the absolute truth of the first part of her statement.

"Oh yeah?"

The blonde raises a brow, glancing down at her roguish attire before looking back up at her companion and challenging her to elaborate.

"Should I be flattered or offended?"

"That's up to you. From what I know of bail bonds work, which is admittedly very little other than what someone once told me, it seems there are two traits that are extraordinarily beneficial. The first being cunning, which I don't know you well enough to comment on, the second being allure... I'm sure you scrub up well when you need to."

Regina muses calmly, although inwardly she struggles to keep from lashing out to take some of the appreciation out of her remark; caught entirely off-guard by her own admission. Emma seems similarly thrown, although not in the way the Queen has grown used to; the blonde frequently tripping over her words and growling gruffly at her when caught by surprise, and rarely responding with the cool self-assurance she does now.

_In Miss Swan's defence, you don't just nip at her heels; you bite down savagely and refuse to let go..._

"I haven't had any complaints... Well, not in _that_ department, anyway. Once the game's up, I get called all sorts, but before they realise my interest is just part of the job... I do just fine."

"And that doesn't bother you? The insincerity of their interest in you as a person?"

Regina asks curiously, knowing she's being a little bold, but it's something she has wondered about in the past.

"Why would it? I'm not interested in them; I'm just reeling in fish. The fact that most of my marks are too blind to see beyond their junk is more a reflection on _them_ than on me, I would say. At least, that's how I see it."

Emma finishes off with a bit of an edge as she waits to see if the intriguing woman sent to help her has any further wisdom to impart that may or may not require swift retribution. As it is, the brunette simply nods, as she agrees

"That seems fair... People are pigs, I know that all too well."

"... I'm sure you do."

The blonde replies after offering her companion a pointed inspection up and down, and Regina finds herself faltering for a moment as the younger woman turns back to the computer and smacks the mouse against the table in the futile hope that this might somehow help solve whatever problem she seems to be having.

 _That was_ definitely _suggestive..._

She muses, but she tells herself not to look too deeply into the fact that Emma should opt for lechery in place of what was presumably a back-handed compliment, and she sighs as she takes a couple of steps further into the room, coming to stand beside the younger woman and joining her in her examination of the pictureless monitor.

"What's the problem? What do you need it for?"

"Security..."

Emma replies, offering the brunette a small frown as this last question strikes her as a little odd.

_Surely she would know what the hell she's here for!_

But, history has taught her that she should spare such positive presumptions when it comes to others offering aid, and by the looks of the darker woman clad in her nice coat and expensive shoes, she's either new to her job or doesn't view it as her full-time gig. Either way, Emma doubts she'll last long sat behind a desk with bored office-workers fawning over her.

_That's maybe a little unkind..._

Maybe, but she can see it happening. The brunette is unusually attractive, and there's just something about her that the younger woman imagines could draw people in.

_Myself included, it seems._

Clearing her throat, she turns back to the useless monitor and elaborates

"We've set up cameras in the main rooms as a safety precaution after what happened three years ago."

"What happened?"

Regina asks curiously, fully aware that the blonde's memories up until recently are entirely false and of her own fabrication, but it seems Emma refers to something she's been _told_ about rather than something she believes she's witnessed.

"The guys organising the event back when they used to do this on the other side of town had a nightmare of bad press after an actor collapsed and it took over ten minutes for someone to realise it wasn't just part of the show. She was alright in the end, turns out it was something genetic, I'm not sure what, but people got talking and it didn't look good... I don't think we'd be unlucky enough for something like that to happen again, but we do get groups of teenagers barging through the place later on in the evening, and it was part of our gentleman's agreement with Mr Roydd whose name is on the deeds for this old building that we would keep an eye on things before some horror story about 'the old, abandoned factory in the park' messes with his plans of selling the place next year. I suppose if he played it right he could always lean into the freak factor and find some creepy eccentric to take the place on- I'm sure I don't need to tell you that the city's _full_ of them- but a promise is a promise, even if just a verbal one, and I don't want to have to raise my hand and accept any blame there might be just because I can't figure out how to work a fucking _computer_."

Emma grumbles, and the brunette nods with a tight smile to suggest she _absolutely_ knows the sorts of people that roam this city she's never set foot in, in a world she knows very little about.

"Don't worry. Your inadequacy is safe with me, dear."

She replies, telling herself she's playing a risky game as such a rude statement might be considered far too familiar, but, to her surprise, her impolite teasing is met with a low chuckle as Emma glances back over her shoulder at her appreciatively.

"Just like that? You're not going to ask anything in return?"

"I-"

But the Mayor's uncertain response is cut short as a harrowing shriek and ominous crash sound from one of the rooms closest to them, and Emma frowns and holds up a finger in a request that her companion wait a moment as she stalks off to go and investigate.

Letting out a low breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding in, Regina frowns at her poky surroundings uneasily; dark eyes drinking in the blank screen of the monitor before flickering over to the empty sandwich carton and beercan stacked on the side of the desk. The blonde's phone and car keys have been left out in an uncharacteristically trusting manner; the latter old, the former new and pertaining only to this version of her life.

_Bzzt._

She watches as the screen illuminates and a message from a contact named Ryan pops up.

_Bullshit! Sure you don't want to switch? I can talk to the IT nerd and you can get bloody and deal with these kids? You know-_

But the rest is cut off as only the first few lines show up without unlocking the phone to read further.

 _Which I_ could _do..._

Regina muses, but she doesn't feel snooping on Emma is the best use of her time, and so instead she focuses her magic elsewhere.

Closing her eyes, she concentrates as she tries to block out the muffled screaming echoing through the walls, and when she opens them again, the monitor that has been causing Emma so much grief has come to life. The screen has been split into four, and for a moment, she frowns as she has no clue how to fix this perceived problem, but then she realises that the divided display is by design. The bottom right-hand square is black, but the rest show live video footage of some of the rooms in the house. The quality is poor, and the rooms are dark with flickering lights which make the live feed hard to watch, but she supposes she can see enough to make out that all seems well- _as well as shrieking, flailing children can ever be considered_ \- and she breathes a sigh of relief that she's been able to get the machine to bend to her will and thus save any questions about her reason for being here.

Spying the blonde on one of the cameras, the Mayor fingers her bottom lip pensively as she watches Emma sidestep a ghoul in a straightjacket that springs out at her as she walks with purpose past two cowering young girls. The Sheriff barely flinches and simply offers the ghoul a flash of her middle finger before moving out of the view of the lens, and Regina hastily gathers her wits as she presumes the blonde is making her way back to the control room.

Weighing up her options, she returns the pc monitor to its black, useless screen with a flick of her wrist mere seconds before the door handle turns and Emma slips back into the room.

"What happened?"

"Oh, one of the werewolves tripped over a wheelbarrow of severed limbs while lunging at some kids."

The blonde replies, closing the door behind her to find Regina offering her a pointedly bemused stare.

"Bet that's the first time you've heard _that_ sentence."

Emma teases, and the brunette shrugs as she primps at her hair and replies silkily

"You don't know me."

"... I guess not."

The younger woman grins, privately concluding that she would quite _like_ to get to know the mysterious brunette a little better- _a whole lot better!_ \- and nodding towards the computer.

"I suppose what I _want_ to know is whether you can _fix_ that thing?"

 _Although that's_ not _all I want to know, not by a long shot. Just who_ are _you, lady?_

And it's on the tip of her tongue to mention that they haven't even exchanged names, before she's interrupted as the brunette helps herself to a seat behind the screen.

"I'm sure I can."

Regina affirms, and she could have just let Emma walk in on her with the screen up and running, but she had feared this might have led to an early dismissal.

_Perhaps not, though. The way Miss Swan has been looking at you almost makes it seem like she'd like to keep you around for a little while._

A flattering thought that plays entirely to her ego- even if it _is_ just Emma- and she makes a show of pressing a couple of keys with an attitude that suggests she knows shat she's doing before getting down to the _real_ task at hand.

"Oh, here."

She smiles as she pulls the packet of candy corn out of her coat pocket, and she _almost_ feels a little reluctant as she makes a move to get the ball rolling; enjoying Emma's company without the usual bitterness of their past misunderstandings.

 _Not sure that's_ quite _what she'd call it..._

Perhaps not, but the sentiment remains apt all the same. She had spurned Emma's suggestions of friendship back in Storybrooke as her dignity is really all that she has _left_ , and the thought of permitting any _one_ of the Charmings to assume such a title had been just too horrific to take. Still, she supposes she _does_ enjoy her time spent with the blonde; whether bullying her, bickering with her, or baiting her, she'd started to seek her out rather than do anything in her power to avoid the woman by the time Emma and Henry left for New York. As such, she'd been true to the promise she had made on their departure; she'd made sure to keep her usual hint of dark spite out of her careful meddling with the younger woman's memories.

"Here?"

Emma raises a brow as she accepts the bag held out to her.

"I was given them, and you seem more likely to appreciate them than I am."

"...How'd you figure that?"

The blonde asks as she studies the candy suspiciously, but she catches a definite teasing lilt to the darker woman's tone and when she places her hands on her hips- the packet clutched against her side- she shows off her horror-themed t-shirt purposefully and offers her companion a smirk.

"Well, you're clearly a woman of poor taste."

Regina shrugs, and she watches as the blonde narrows her eyes; wondering for a moment if she's been a little too forward, before Emma pulls over a chair to sit beside her- quite _close_ beside her- and props her boots up on the desk.

"Now that _is_ a sentence I've heard before."

The blonde grins, and she fiddles the ribbon around the packet of candy absentmindedly, before tossing it to the side and sitting forward in her chair.

"Wait, did you see that flicker? Did you get it to do something?"


	6. Chapter 6

_"Wait, did you see that flicker? Did you get it to do something?"_

"What?"

Regina snaps distractedly, her eyes trained on the packet of candy corn and her lip curling back to show her teeth when the blonde tosses it carelessly to the side.

"You didn't just see something happen with the screen?"

Emma frowns, and Regina splays her palms in a parody of confusion, supposing that her clueless meddling with the keyboard might have actually kicked something into gear. With the screen still blank, it seems to have just been a momentary flash of success, and so she keeps her charade up as she goes back to tapping mindlessly at the keys.

"You're bail bonds. Shouldn't you _know_ how to work a computer?"

She accuses, recalling Emma's apparent expertise upon one of their first meetings when she'd gleaned Henry's whereabouts from his laptop."

"I know how to _work_ a computer, I don't know how t _o fix_ one. I'm generally too _busy_ to need to bother with that shit."

The younger woman hisses irritably, before thinning her lips as she demands coolly

"How _do_ you know I work bail, anyway?"

"They mentioned it when they sent me out to help."

Regina replies dismissively; not knowing who on earth 'they' might be, but that's okay because it seems Emma does as she nods her acceptance of this explanation.

Nipping at the tip of her tongue as she glances over at the discarded candy corn bag, Regina tries to get them talking again in the hopes that the younger woman might be tempted to snack and chat, as has always seemed her preferred way of doing things.

_How you stay looking like that is beyond me..._

But it's not really. She's fought alongside Emma, fled with her, sparred with her, and has seen the blonde slip from between the trees with her cheeks ruddy and hair a mess, and she knows the younger woman's physique has been earned just as much as her own has been.

_In vastly different ways!_

Yes, whereas sensible choices and self-restraint are her chosen method of maintaining the appearance she desires, the Sheriff appears to adhere to a more chaotic way of of living- _as has always been her way_ \- and oscillates between gluttony and masochistically gruelling exercise to achieve a similar goal.

 _Well, it has always been Miss Swan's_ way _to make a relatively simple task_ infinitely _more challenging than it needs to be._

A small, secretive smirk as she supposes their end-goal isn't _entirely_ the same, and she has to admit, she appreciates the results of the blonde's frenetic efforts.

 _... Best leave_ that _topic of thought before it gets complicated._

She warns herself swiftly with an uneasy clearing of her throat and she makes an attempt to get the younger woman talking again while privately scolding herself for veering off on a rather concerning tangent.

"Your phone buzzed by the way. I think you received a message."

"Oh."

Emma reaches for her cell and opens up the text with the use of her thumbprint. Scanning the message briefly, she rolls her eyes and slides her cell back towards the corner.

"Nothing important. Just a terrible offer I'm not even going to dignify with a response."

She grins, before catching the darker woman's politely confused frown and deciding to elaborate; not ordinarily overly chatty with those she doesn't know, but for some reason, the conversation seems to be flowing smoothly and she supposes she's in no hurry for the brunette to succeed in her task and leave her be.

"One of the guys that's helping out, Ryan, wants to switch with me to get a break from the frontline of kids arguing about their age and whatever else. He should know me well enough to know that's an offer I'm going to leave _well_ alone!"

"Oh. Is he a partner? A colleague?"

"Not really, not a colleague. I don't tend to work well with others, and it would totally mess with my _allure,_ as you put it, to have some dude joining me for faux dates... Unless the mark was into that, I guess."

"I meant as _back-up_ , not at the table sipping wine..."

"Oh, well, the same answer still applies. I've never really done the whole back-up deal as I don't tend to work bigger stings. I work solo, and I like my _perps_ solo. As for 'partner', I guess that was true in a way for a _little_ while, but nothing to do with the job."

Emma shrugs, before wrinkling her nose as she fiddles with a loose thread on the seam of her jeans.

"It was a _very_ little while. Ryan's a good guy, but he's an attorney, and I guess I don't need to say much more than that."

"An attorney..."

Regina muses, not knowing whether the blonde needs to say more or not as she has no clue what she might be getting at, but she doesn't really care. Recalling her conversation with the man in the knitted cap helping to lug fake bodies into the house, she raises a brow as she asks

"Is he who I spoke to earlier? Tall and wearing a hat?"

"Wow, what a _compelling_ description... But, yeah. Probably."

"That isn't awkward?"

The brunette asks, inwardly confused why she's suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable- a little bemused- finding out that the younger woman has indeed dated during her absence.

_Fooled around at the very least... Maybe no wine and dinner as she didn't specify, but I'm sure there was 'dessert'..._

"It would only be awkward if we _made_ it that way, and I don't think either of us ever felt strongly enough to bother doing that. It's not like we were properly an _item_ anyway.

Emma explains coolly, confirming the Mayor's suspicions, and the darker woman frowns as she suffers a strange, untoward feeling in her stomach and pushes it firmly away.

_Why on earth should I care?_

She doesn't. Not really. She's just always found herself a little irritable when addressing the topic of the blonde's love-life.

 _Well, it's only_ reasonable _after what happened with Graham._

Entirely reasonable, although a small part of her can't help but feel that the jealousy she harbours whenever thinking about the subject isn't directed where it _should_ be.

Where it makes _sense_ for it to be directed.

Towards _who_ it should be directed.

 _I was angry at her, yes, but I was_ jealous _of Graham, and it bothered me- confused me- that it should be that way around._

Thinning her lips as she glances surreptitiously to her side, she drinks in messy curls and the familiar nicks and freckles decorating the blonde's face with a sigh.

"Well, I don't think I could organise something like this alongside someone I was no longer seeing. Whether it had been casual or not."

She muses.

"Hmm, well I doubt you're the _sort_ for that, anyway."

Emma shrugs, raising a brow when her statement is met with a frown.

"And on what _exactly_ are you basing that assumption?"

Regina demands, sounding really quite annoyed which lends the blonde a small smile.

"Nothing, of course, so don't take it to heart. All I meant was that you don't seem like the kind of woman people would want anything _casual_ with."

"Well, _that's_ -"

"-I mean, if it was me, _I_ wouldn't."

"I-"

"-I'm not much into the dating thing, whereas you strike me as a wine and candlelit dinner kind of person, but I can appreciate something worth having and I'd be inclined not to be quite so irresponsible as to let it slip through my fingers. Sometimes you just get a feeling about someone, you know?"

"... Do you?"

"Mm... Anyway, it was meant as a compliment, but someone should probably tell your face."

"It wasn't the _easiest_ line of affirmation to follow!"

"Ha! No, I'm not good at that, I'll admit."

"... Evidently.

Regina agrees, feeling much more flattered than she'd care to admit, and she swallows as she reminds herself what she's here for and that she has spent an inordinate amount of effort trying to make the woman sat beside her as miserable as possible.

 _Your disgust for her is a well-honed_ talent _!_

It's also entirely _false_ and has been since day one. She knows this, but it has always been somewhat of a sport for her to loudly comment on the aspects of Emma's existence she claims to find repulsive, and it's not as though their relationship has ever lent her a reason to offer up a more _truthful_ admission of what she might think.

_That goes both ways..._

It does, which is why Emma's suggestion that she sees her worth, even if only superficially- _especially superficiall_ y- has thrown her very much off guard.

_Not to mention, her suggestion was a little, well... Suggestive!_

"You better get back to trying to fix that thing, or I'm going to be in trouble..."

The blonde interrupts her uneasy musing, and Regina notes both the pause after the younger woman's statement, and a definite note of regret at putting an end to their dangerous conversation.

"I suppose so."

She agrees, fiddling with the keys once again with plans to bring the monitor to life once she's made sure that there's no further unlikely flattery coming her way.

_After all, it would be a shame to miss out._

A small smirk touches the corners of her lips, before Emma catches her by surprise as she loses her patience and suggests

"Maybe it's the cameras themselves. Do they need a certain setting or something to feed into the system?"

"I... Maybe."

Regina replies cluelessly, before assuring confidently

"It doesn't matter, I think I'm almost there. It will be fine."

"I still think you should go check. I mean, we've been messing around here for _ages_ , and nothing's worked. No offence, but whatever you're doing doesn't seem to be helping, so maybe go look at the cameras."

"Why me?"

The brunette frowns, earning herself a comically similar expression as Emma's brow furrows and she reasons slowly as though talking to a moron

"Because that's your _job_..."

"... Exactly, and I think I'm almost there."

The Mayor insists, but when the younger woman sighs irritably, she weighs up her options and decides that taking a breather from the strange tension between them isn't the _worst_ idea in the world.

 _It would be a wise move to dispel some of that absurd electricity before Miss Swan remembers who she is- who_ you _are- and demands an awkward conversation!_

True, although she knows Emma would never do such a thing.

 _Has_ never done such a thing.

 _After all, it's not the_ first _time we've found ourselves confused and flustered._

No, but she doesn't dare take that thought any further, and so pushes herself up from her chair to obey the younger woman's request in pointlessness.

_I just need a moment..._

"Fine, I'll take a look."

She agrees, stalking for the door with an arrogant toss of her hair.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The end! Happy Halloween guys! I hope you have a lovely eve (as lovely as can be had with everything going on right now) and that you enjoyed this little story :)

Stalking a little way down the hall, Regina glances over her shoulder as the door to the control room swings closed behind her and stops. Moving to stand with her back against the wall and her eyes adjusting to the darkness, she frowns down at the cables that snake across the floor but doesn't go any further.

She doesn't need to.

She'll simply take a couple of minutes to get herself firmly back under control before she brings the monitor miraculously to life.

 _You shouldn't have let the conversation take the direction it did. Now you have_ that _to deal with on top of everything else!_

Perhaps, but she'd argue that she's not solely responsible and that the _majority_ of the blame should fall on Emma who had definitely been the _ringleader_ in their suggestive back and forth.

 _Why are you surprised? The woman_ prides _herself on getting under your skin with uncouth remarks and obnoxious teasing._

True, except that had been back in Storybrooke. Back home. Back when Emma had known who she was and had had a reason to wind her up and dole back some of the confusion and irritation she'd received in spades. Now, the blonde has no _pretext_ for her impish comments. She has no memory of their heated spats and their tumultuous battle for dominance and control.

Now, she's just a woman at work, making rather _provocative_ comments towards a stranger she seems openly appreciative of.

_This isn't part of a game... At least, not one we've played before..._

Regina swallows as she tries to decide how best to proceed. She _could_ make her way back into the room and push for the younger woman to eat the candy- hardly the most challenging of requests- and put an immediate end to this before either of them says anything else that might cause friction in the future.

 _Friction?! Our entire_ relationship _has been built off friction, and it seems we can't help but enjoy the spark!_

She could end this... _Or,_ she could carry on letting Emma unknowingly take the reigns. She could simply see how this all plays out.

The thought fills her with more anticipation that she knows it should, and she tells herself she's merely relishing this much-needed break from the monotony of her interactions with those back home.

_Don't make this into something bigger than it really is._

She scolds herself, blaming her disquiet and reluctance on Snow and her prince, as she fears their newfound caution has rubbed off on her. _Never_ when she had claimed the throne would she have given a second thought to the consequence of her actions, and, while she knows that her growth in this respect is valid and crucial, she does acknowledge that she can sometimes allow situations to blow up and get away from her in her mind only to find herself disappointed and deflated by their eventual reality.

 _It's not as though anything's about to_ happen _._

She rolls her eyes as she primps her hair and reapplies her smirk of superiority before flicking her wrist to bring the monitor in the control room to life and heading back in to reap the adoration her magic has surely earned her.

"Is it working? I think I-"

But she falls silent with a frown of confusion as she looks from the camera footage lighting up the screen to the blonde who has moved to sit perched on the desk with her back to the display that's caused her so much grief.

"It's working."

Emma agrees, her expression hard to read and her tone low. Dangerous.

"Well, you're _welcome_."

Regina sighs dramatically, and the younger woman offers her a curt nod but nothing more, before musing quietly.

"I guess that means you're done here."

"... Looks that way."

The brunette agrees, but she makes no move to leave and simply stands with her back to the props littering the shelves.

"Shame."

Emma replies finally, and the darker woman raises a brow as she enquires silkily

"Oh?"

"I think the rest of my night it going to be pretty boring sat in here on my own."

"Mm... Well, you _were_ offered a swap of position to see the action."

Regina reminds her baitedly, and the younger woman nods slowly before asking

"Is that what you think I should do, then?"

"Well, I imagine what you do is up to you, dear. I don't see how it's any of _my_ business."

"... It _could_ be."

Emma replies cryptically, and she waits for the brunette to ask her what she means. To tell her to back off. To sigh and say that she should get going now that she's done what she's come here to do.

The darker woman simply remains stood where she is, and there's no _way_ she's not aware of the electricity between them.

At least, that's what Emma tells herself, but she's pretty sure she's right as the brunette wets her lips and stares her down.

"What do you-"

Regina asks finally, but she's cut off as the Sheriff moves swiftly from the desk to push her none too gently back against the stacked shelves; tasting her in the way she had seemed to threaten to all that time ago when she'd pushed the Queen up against the shelves in the hospital supply closet.

Reciprocating the blonde's kiss hungrily, the Mayor shivers as a hand slips beneath her coat to rest firmly against her side, and she threads her fingers into tousled curls and offers a wicked tug in retaliation. She considers pulling back to insist that any progression to this madness is inadvisable, but then the younger woman trails hot velvet down her throat followed by a bold brush of her teeth, and the brunette allows herself to be pulled over towards the desk willingly as she battles clumsily to remove the blonde's jacket.

"Ouch!"

She hisses as the backs of her thighs smack against the edge of the desk, but she makes no further protest as Emma encourages her to lean back on its surface while the younger woman takes over in shedding rough leather; wrestling open the Mayor's smart, wool coat to even the score.

"It should be alright..."

Emma murmurs into dark locks as she pulls herself up onto the desk so she may straddle the darker woman who she now guides to lie across its length with little concern when Regina accidentally kicks the monitor, in danger of knocking it onto the floor, and Emma's odd assurance promptly makes sense as the desk gives an ominous creak beneath their weight and shudders with their movements.

"Are you sure?"

Regina demands breathlessly as she slips her hand beneath thin cotton.

"You want to stop?"

The blonde growls as she dips her head to nip at softly parted lips.

"No."

The Mayor replies firmly, watching through hooded lids as the younger woman takes her response as a request to make swift work of the buttons of her shirt.

"Good."

Emma smirks as she runs her hand over newly exposed flesh with a suggestive push of her hips that causes the desk to shudder.

"Just be careful."

Regina warns as she pulls the younger woman's t-shirt roughly over up and over her head; taking little care to keep from scratching pale skin as she does.

"Sorry, not my style."

The blonde grins as she shakes out messy curls, and rises high up onto her knees in order to make swift work of the catch to smart dress pants. A loud crack heralds this action, and the Mayor frowns, before biting her lip when sly fingers slip swiftly inside steadily dampening silk.

"Don't worry, that was my knees."

Emma chuckles as she teases the brunette slowly, and Regina allows her lashes to fall shut as she hisses irritably

"Could you stop ruining the moment?!"

"Oh, are we having a _moment_?"

The blonde muses impishly, cracking up throatily when the darker woman offers her ass a firm squeeze in a flawed attempt at punishment, before stopping with an abrupt yelp as Regina pulls her down roughly to sink her teeth into her bottom lip.

"You tell me..."

The Mayor whispers, her breathing audible as Emma gives up any pretence and enters her with a slick curl of her fingers. She uses her own to wrestle the blonde's jeans open, before coaxing her to pull back so that she can slip rough denim partially down her thighs.

"I guess we are."

The younger woman hisses as her earlier teasing is reciprocated and skilled fingers play over scant lace before pulling the damp crotch of her underwear to the side.

"Careful..."

Regina repeats her earlier warning when the desk shudders against the wall as Emma lowers her hips and begins to move in time with slow thrusts of her fingers, although she doesn't imagine either of them is in any state to take heed of her demand as she tastes the blonde hungrily; feeling lightheaded with shock that this should be happening, yet sure in every reciprocal dip into slick heat.

"Fuck..."

Emma hisses through gritted teeth as they begin to move with purpose towards the edge, and she imagines its a good thing that canned sound-effects are being pumped out to illicit real screams, as this drowns out the steady knocking of the desk against the wall, and the small noises they make that grow steadily louder as each tries to outdo the other.

"Faster..."

Regina pants as she picks up her own pace roughly, and she adds her own steady moaning to rival that in the haunted rooms as Emma complies with a gentle nip to her throat.

That teasing nip soon becomes a cruel bite as the younger woman falls forward with a cry; driving her fingers deep and grinding her palm against the brunette's need to bring the latter crashing over the edge after her with a choked sob.

"Careful."

The Mayor warns yet again, although this time she has little interest in the desk, and instead refers to Emma's movements as the blonde pushes herself up and slips her fingers from spent folds to earn herself a telling jerk.

"Sorry."

The Sheriff grins knowingly, taking a moment to drink in flushed cheeks and forbidden flesh before she climbs cautiously off the table to allow the brunette to sit up.

"God..."

Regina croaks, running a shaking hand through her hair as she tries to catch her breath. Glancing over at the blonde as the latter pulls up her jeans and retrieves her top, she begins doing up the buttons of her shirt before lowering herself off the desk and tucking it neatly back into the waistband of her pants. Pulling her coat firmly around herself, she watches as Emma reclaims her seat and shakes the mouse to bring the computer screen back to life. Rubbing at her lips a little awkwardly- imagining her lipstick is now nothing but a ghosted memory- she struggles to think of something to say, before her gaze falls on something she can't quite explain. Glancing back up at messy curls and the younger woman's improbably relaxed demeanour, she shakes her head and stalks stiffly towards the desk; picking up the opened and almost empty packet of candy still trailing its orange ribbon.

"What...?"

She struggles to get the word out, and once successful, she has no clue what to say to follow, and so she simply holds up the bag in demand for an explanation; eyes wide with confusion as they meet cool green.

Emma merely looks at the bag and shrugs, going back to messing with the mouse, before musing softly

"Shouldn't you get going? Now that you've finished with your 'job' and all?"

"I don't understand..."

The brunette replies woodenly, taking a hasty step back as the younger woman pushes herself up and moves to fetch her jacket from the floor.

"Really? That's not like you, Regina."

Emma remarks coolly, and the darker woman glances over at her sharply as the use of her name confirms the insanity she holds in her hand, and she opens her mouth in sheer shock before demanding incredulously

"When did you-?! How did you?!... Why did you _do_ that if you knew who I _was_?!"

"Why did you _start_ it when you knew who _I_ was?"

The younger woman counters boldly, and the Mayor struggles with fury, disbelief and a nauseating sense of unease as she stammers in an attempt to answer; her cheeks flushed with rage.

"I didn't start _anything!_ "

She snaps finally, knowing this is a weak response at best. Emma seems of a similar opinion as she stares her down pensively, before perching on the desk with a sigh.

"Well, you can plead innocence all you like, but you sure as hell _finished_ something."

"I-..."

Regina tries again, but she remains too stunned to do much more than glower at the Sheriff, and finally, Emma takes a small form of pity on her.

"Look, I ate those while you were out the room sorting the cameras- _pretending_ to sort the cameras- and I felt very much how you're feeling right now, _believe_ me! I don't know e _xactly_ what you're doing here pretending to be a tech wiz inside a Haunted House, but I can guess at the gist of it and I imagine you're probably here to try and convince Henry and I to come home now that it's safe to do so. I can't think why _else_ you'd be here... That's a lot, Regina. _Always_ with you, it's a lot. You fuck with my head like it's a _sport_ ; it's like your greatest _pleasure_ in life is complicating mine. I guess I just saw an opportunity to give you a taste of how that feels."

The blonde admits, pulling her hair back with a wince and tying it into a messy knot away from her face.

"...So that's why you did it? To get _back_ at me?! Miss Swan, that is so _far_ over the line! To make me look like a _fool_ , and-"

"-I didn't say I wanted to make you look like a fool."

Emma interrupts with a frown.

" _No_?! Well, how am I _supposed_ to feel learning that you were playing me to settle some imagined score?"

"I wasn't playing you... I already told you; I don't see you like that."

"You... But you didn't know... When you said those things about me, you didn't _know_ who I was. So how would you-"

"-No, but I told you; sometimes you just get a _feeling_ about someone... In this case, I was right. I usually am about that kind of thing."

The blonde shrugs.

"I... I don't... You couldn't have just _told_ me that? You couldn't have just admitted you'd eaten the candy? I don't understand why you would _kiss_ me when you knew full well who I was!? Let _alone_ anything else!"

"Well, I imagine, Madame Mayor, my reasons are similar to yours for _letting_ me... You knew just as well as I did. _Better_ than you believed I did, so why did _you_ do it?"

"... I wanted to."

Regina replies finally, her expression hard as she meets Emma's green stare warily.

" _Ooooh_ , I bet that stung to admit!"

The blonde teases, earning herself a warning glower, before the brunette lets go of her furious disbelief and sighs.

"Not as badly as either of us probably would expect... After all, _you've_ admitted that you find me worthy of possessive adoration and long-term romance. It seems fair that I permit that you're just about tolerable when you're naked."

"Hmm... If that's your theory, then your research is highly flawed."

"Maybe. But you see, I'm the sort of woman you'd need to take out for _wine_ and _dinner_ to find out more."

"Is that so?"

"Your words, not mine, dear. I don't make the rules."

"Actually, you almost always _do_."

"True... And yet you kissed me."

"Hmm... Well, I guess that tells you something about the sort of woman _I_ might be."

"... Not _nearly_ enough."

"Then... Maybe we should go get something to eat once I'm done here. I take it you're not on any schedule?"

"No... My task was always going to take as long as it took... I'm sure it's not _totally_ outside the realms of the other's imagination that you might prove difficult and stall."

"That does sound like me."

"... And, I'm sure there's some truth in my presumption that you're not in any _immediate_ hurry to run on home?"

"I have my reservations, but I would have thought you'd be eager to bring us back?"

"I was _eager_ to find you... _Henry_ , I mean."

"Sure."

"Dinner sounds... Fine. Insane, but acceptable."

" _Is_ it though?"

"Acceptable?"

"Insane?"

"... No. Maybe not.

"I don't think so either."

Emma admits quietly, leaning over for her phone and opening up her messages.

"I'll text Ryan to see if there's any chance he can swing things so I can get out of here early."

"Are you going to tell him why?"

Regina asks, dark eyes glittering wickedly, and Emma raises a brow with a small smirk before reaching up to wipe at a smear of lipstick colouring the brunette's jaw.

"I don't think I _need_ to..."

"Mm. Do it anyway."

"Yeah?"

"For fun."

"You're evil."

"You know this already."

"I guess I do."


End file.
